Black Girl Rising

You’re symphonies of fire. In your wake, we’re consumed.
There’s chorus in your charisma, a Black ballad in bloom-
your copper, your amber, your ivory and bone, your blue-purple, black-ruby sapphire tone, your quartz and your bronze, carnelian moonstone more precious, pearl-diamond, than what can be owned.

Who gave you more glory than what can be known?

You are the wish and the word, the voice and the muse.
You’re the melody rising, the bliss of the blues.

You are Toni’s good fortune. Rita’s lady freedom tune. You are Mari’s black cypress. You are Gwendolyn’s Jazz June.

You are Alice’s IAM, the sun of Sonia’s soul shades.
You are Zora’s eyes watchin’ all the wonder you’ve made.

What’s to come, wonderful one, is in the crease of your hand; might of your step, it’s in the might everywhere your new light lands.